A World Apart
by vierblith
Summary: TezukaFuji. Short multiparter. AU: They find that even the Haven for angels isn't perfect.


**A World Apart**  
Pairing: Tezuka/Fuji  
Rating: PG 13  
Genre: Romance, Angst, Supernatural  
Warning: very definitely AU  
Summary: Kunimitsu and Syusuke find that even the Haven for angels is not perfect.  
Disclaimer: They own each other.

**A/N:** Would have posted this here last week if I realized that I wouldn't be able to finish Part I.2 because of, well, school (as usual). Anyway, belated HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!! This fic actually has two accompanying arts by a1ypuff. The first one is in my LJ. I'll provide a link to it in my ffnet profile page. :3

**Part I  
(Installment One)**

Little grey wings flutter as the Cherubims bound gleefully out of the Pavilion, more spirited than usual, practically ecstatic that there will be no exams, no homework for two months. Equally relieved, Tezuka Kunimitsu releases a deep sigh when he sees the last pair of wings slip round the arched doorway and away from view. Taking the seat behind his desk, he begins piling the exam parchments in a neat stack. He sets his rimless glasses aside and rests his head on his folded hands, grateful that the term has ended and that he won't have to deal with the energetic children over the next two months. Although he favors the little ones over the older, much more rebellious Thrones, he still finds himself exhausted by the end of each day. Perhaps, he begins to think, he doesn't have the right temperament to teach children. Maybe it's time to reconsider that teaching job for the advance class?

He shuts his eyes and shakes his head slightly, remembering the reason he stayed in this job in the first place. He sighs again and leans his head back, allowing himself to soak in the warm sunlight and bathe in the much-needed silence. This moment of respite, however, proves to be short-lived as he hears a knock from the doorway and a pleasant tone asking, "May I come in, Tezuka-sensei?"

The intrusion, though untimely, must be welcome to Kunimitsu who nods quietly. Otherwise, he would have given a flat, resolute "No" for, as other angels know, he is terribly aloof, preferring his own peace and quiet over socialization.

Then again, few, if any, would actually dare refuse an Archangel anything, especially this one who stands and waits by the doorway; everyone believes that this particular angel can mesmerize anyone to do his bidding by merely revealing a pair of stunning blue eyes that are so often concealed by an equally captivating smile.

The Archangel's broad silver wings and braided brown hair trail elegantly behind him as he sails toward Kunimitsu's desk. He occupies the bit of tidied-up space on the edge that faces Kunimitsu. He swings a leg over the other and leans forward, his face filled with curiosity. "Did my brother do well in the exams?"

"I haven't checked the papers yet," Kunimitsu replies honestly. He seems too used to be troubled by a pair of gentle arms that have managed to find their way around his neck. It doesn't seem like a surprise to him either when vast, perfectly groomed wings enclose him.

As though it's normal to do so, he opens his mouth when another set of lips claims his own and flicks a tongue forward for a kiss so unpure and unchaste that angels aren't supposed to experience let alone enjoy it. He makes a husky earthly moan when his tongue rolls off the other playfully. The Archangel responds by teasing some more, sucking on his tongue even harder, even faster, enjoying the way Kunimitsu pulls him closer. The two of them don't seem to want to break apart, too busy fondling each other's lips and tracing each other's mouths with their tongues to care about anything else at the moment.

They only stop when the lack of air and the pleasurable sensation blend and make them both dizzy. They separate – albeit not completely. Kunimitsu touches the Archangel's arms like he doesn't want to let go, while the arms remain laced around his neck, caressing his nape with slender fingers.

"Yuuta might come looking for you," Kunimitsu says in a curt, admonishing tone.

The Archangel presses his forehead against Kunimitsu's. "I've been gone for more than a month and among the first things you give me is a warning. Play fair. The first thing I gave you was a kiss," he says in playful chastisement. "Anyway," he continues lightly, letting his left hand travel to Kunimitsu's face, "Yuuta is too busy playing with Kojiroh to look for me."

Kunimitsu's eyes flutter momentarily when soft fingertips trace his lips. "How was your assignment?" he asks.

"You know wars," the Archangel responds. A wan smile conveys what he means.

Kunimitsu nods. He has never been to a site of war, but he doesn't need to be in one to know how devastating it is. Regardless of the cause, no mortal side can bask in triumph. Even Haven suffers a blow, too many angels acquire wounds and injuries that impair them and hinder them from doing their jobs. Only the Kingdom Below actually revels in its effects.

He stays quiet for a moment and studies the Archangel. He sees a long gash from the Archangel's right shoulder and across his chest, and his eyebrows form a frown of concern. "Have you seen the Healer?"

"Yes." The Archangel's eyes open up and glint meaningfully. "She told me that I have wounds that can only be cured by the Dell."

Kunimitsu catches the hidden message, a covert invitation. But he doesn't look as thrilled with the notion as the Archangel appears to be. "Syusuke, I don't think that's a wise idea."

The azure eyes remain revealed for a while and they scrutinize him. "Hm? But anyone who goes to the Dell needs another companion to say the Healing Prayer," the Archangel says innocently, but his eyes gain a sharper gleam, like he's telling something else entirely.

Kunimitsu presses his lips and throws a glare at Syusuke, who suddenly finds it important to look around the Pavilion and to inspect its pillars. Kunimitsu sighs, defeated. His submission, at least, gets rewarded with another long kiss.

"I'll drop by your house after dinner," Syusuke says cheerfully, his bruised lips etched into a satisfied smile. "I need to work on the report about the war so I can't stay long." He brushes his lips against Kunimitsu's forehead and, ever so slowly that their skins tingle, he disentangles himself from Kunimitsu. He touches his feet to the floor in one graceful sweeping motion, ruffles the instructor's hair and turns to leave.

As Syusuke glides out of the room, Kunimitsu follows with his eyes. He is reminded yet again why Syusuke was named Archangel: always most beautiful at his most cunning, Syusuke is one angel never to be reckoned with. He also makes a perfect diplomat, able to convince anyone, critic or supporter alike. Bold and persistent, his will never bends to anyone; instead, he makes everyone else bend to him so easily, but not forcibly, just as if he beckons them courteously with his charms.

Once Syusuke is out of sight, he brings his attention back to the pile of exam parchments waiting for him. But, oddly enough, he runs out of focus after fifteen minutes and he begins wondering if that extraordinary trait would allow Syusuke to negotiate the problem they will inevitably face. He hopes so because he knows that it is as certain as it will be difficult. It's not a pleasant thought so he doesn't dwell on it for long, but he keeps it at the back of his mind as a form of caution. He then tries to get back to checking the papers.

An hour later, he decides to take the work home with him. He doesn't usually like leaving the school grounds without fulfilling all his tasks for the day but today is the last day of the school year; every other instructor must be home already. And, his brain adds an afterthought, Syusuke is back. Somehow, right now, the thought feels important.

He reaches their gates at sunset so that the sun, a fierce ball of flames beyond the empty streets and whitewashed houses of Ierusa, welcomes him home. To the untrained eye, the House of Tezuka would seem identical to the house to its right, to its left and across it. But angels know it very well for the potted plants lining the cobblestone steps from the gates to the doorway, quaint little canopies molded with wires and strings. The instructor passes by the plants and enters the house. Above his head, a wooden chime clonks to announce his arrival.

His mother Tezuka Ayana, seated comfortably on an armchair as white as the walls of the house, looks up from her embroidery, a new hobby she has picked up some ten years ago when she last visited Earth. She intently pricks her needle through the powder blue linen before saying, "I heard that the Archangel is back."

"He is," he says plainly.

"Should I prepare something special for supper?" she asks with a patient smile.

"No, Mother. He will dine with his family," Kunimitsu replies. He knows better than to be deceived by his mother's passive tone and kind appearance, though; once again, suspicion that his Mother knows something resurfaces. But he has long learned to assure himself that if, in fact, his mother is aware of his errant ways, she won't tell anyone. But he knows that she doesn't approve of it. No mother in Ayana's shoes will.

"You've seen His Grace, then," she remarks without surprise.

Kunimitsu nods. "He asked me to say the Healing Prayer for him."

"He always does." Ayana smiles, but the corners of her mouth tighten as if she's holding something back. "And of course it's an honor to help the Archangel." She lifts her embroidery against the light so that she can inspect it for a while. She then sighs as if she hasn't exhaled in a minute or two and she gets to her feet. "Is there something you'd like for dinner?"

**oOo**

As always, Kunimitsu thinks, Syusuke's arrival to the House of Tezuka is well-timed. The Archangel knocked on the door just as the Tezukas were heading to the parlor for their regular evening cup of tea. He now lounges on the sofa beside Tezuka Kuniharu, answering inquiries regarding the newly erupted war on Earth, his fingers wrapped around a cup of apple green tea.

Kunimitsu sits in silence, preferring to watch Syusuke explain things to his father with eloquent words and graceful animation rather than contribute his own opinion. Only when Syusuke turns to him and asks a question does he speak, but very briefly.

"Would you like some more tea, Your Grace?" asks Ayana, who, like her son, has been quiet at the time.

Syusuke shakes his head and smiles pleasantly. "No, thank you, Tezuka-san. I think Kunimitsu and I should be going."

Kuniharu apologizes for holding the Archangel up, but the latter says, "It's no matter, Tezuka-san. It's always good to hear what the Council thinks about our affairs on Earth." At the corners of his eyes, he glances at Kunimitsu and nods, excusing himself and letting Kunimitsu lead the way out.

To prevent his wings from dragging on the ground, Kunimitsu hides them, and so does Fuji as they walk through a thicket of woods that opens to a vast clearing. At the very heart of it sits the Dell, a sacred lake that now reflects the clear, starry sky on its surface. A gentle breeze picks up and blows the still, crystal clear water, sending the sky – with the moon and the stars – rippling with it.

Syusuke approaches the sloping bank of the lake in a few strides, and he takes off his sash, dropping it to the grassy ground. He soon unties the laces of his pants, revealing a familiar well-toned body to Kunimitsu who stands a yard behind him. From the ridge on his back, silver-tipped feathers burst, growing until four full-sized wings obstructs Syusuke's body from Kunimitsu's view.

The Archangel tests the water with his toes, disrupting the order of the sky on the Dell. Without looking back, he walks straight ahead, his body sinking with each step, his wings soaking in sacred water. He stops when the water reaches shoulder level and raises his head. He shuts his eyes completely, and his lips begin moving, forming the words of an invocation.

Still standing on the bank, Kunimitsu lowers his head, reciting the invocation as well. He remembers doing this for the first time a couple of centuries ago and he remembers the guilt that gripped him. But he knows he has long dispelled that guilt because this is something he has decided on. There's no point feeling sorry for something he knows he wants, for something he knows he will keep on doing until he gets caught, for something he knows he will keep on wanting even if he gets caught. But sometimes, when the thought crosses his mind, he can't help thinking that he will not be—

"Kunimitsu?" Syusuke calls from the lake, his fingers gently undoing the braid of his hair so that it curtains behind him and settles afloat on the water.

Kunimitsu finishes the prayer and slowly undresses himself to join Syusuke in the lake. "Which wounds first?" he asks calmly once he reaches the Archangel's side.

Syusuke's hands guides Kunimitsu's to the slash across the chest. Kunimitsu runs his fingers along it, feeling the telltale mark of a sharp sword. He cups water with his two hands and lets it trickle down the wound. He rests his palms on Syusuke's chest and whispers the Healing Prayer. When he finishes, the wound closes up magically, leaving Syusuke's white skin seemingly untouched, unwounded.

Kunimitsu resumes to the smaller cuts and scratches on Syusuke's skin until Syusuke tells him, "My secondary wing on the left." He frowns and studies it. It doesn't seem injured, but he knows he can't judge properly because of the thick feathers. He lets his fingers brush against it, searching. He stops, however, and glares when Syusuke moans with pleasure upon the contact.

"Don't stop," Syusuke moans, his breath shallow, his eyelids fluttering.

"Syusuke," Kunimitsu reproves. "If we get caught—"

"We've done this many times before and we're still here," Syusuke reminds him pleasantly. Despite his wide, cheerful smile, his blue eyes glitter with flames of both need and determination.

"Syusuke—"

Whatever Kunimitsu has been planning to say gets drowned by a long, searing kiss from Syusuke. Sensing the other angel's surprise, the Archangel presses his wet, naked body against Kunimitsu's so that, now, the latter can feel the heat coming from every inch of his skin. Kunimitsu's gut stirs with raw desire that he tries to sate by deepening the kiss, his tongue wandering aimlessly inside Syusuke's mouth, his fingers tangling with Syusuke's hair, his other hand ruffling the Archangel's feathers.

Pleased with Kunimitsu's reaction, Syusuke hooks his legs around Kunimitsu's thighs. Kunimitsu groans into Syusuke's throat the moment he feels his hardness rub against the Archangel's. Clutching Kunimitsu's shoulders for leverage, Syusuke slides up and down, slowly and gently at first until he feels Kunimitsu's fingers clench around a lock of his feathers and drives him in frenzy. His arms tight around Kunimitsu's neck, he sighs upon reaching his peak.

Panting heavily, smiling with deep amusement, Syusuke lets his feet settle on the soft lake bed. He reaches out and traces Kunimitsu's lips with the pad of his thumb. "What were you going to say?"

Kunimitsu presses his lips, preparing himself for one of Syusuke's usual witty comebacks. But none of those comes. He gapes instead as Syusuke takes both his hands and buries his face in the wet palms. He stays that way for a minute or two, and Kunimitsu chooses to say nothing and do nothing but stand and watch the Archangel.

When Syusuke finally lifts his head, he kisses the bumps on Kunimitsu's palms. "I know you're worried," he says quietly. "But I'm too selfish to care."

**To be continued.**


End file.
